


what would an angel say? the devil wants to know

by cassi0pei4



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Burns, Caligari Spell (Chilling Adventures of Sabrina), Caning, Corsetry, F/M, Gaslighting, Mind Control, Public Humiliation, Rough Oral Sex, Spanking, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:14:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28635327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassi0pei4/pseuds/cassi0pei4
Summary: Lady Blackwood has some grievance sins for which she must atone.  She can't remember any of them, poor thing, but of course her gracious husband is there to help.
Relationships: Faustus Blackwood/Zelda Spellman, Zelda Spellman/Council of Advisors
Comments: 61
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hacklesacademy (ladyvivien)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyvivien/gifts).



> Please heed the tags and warnings. I'll update them as I continue. If none of this is your thing, please leave before I traumatize you. If all of this is your thing, check your soul at reception, and climb aboard the train we're all taking to whatever round of hell writing things like this gets you sentenced to. At least we'll have good company. 
> 
> This takes place somewhere in a world in which Zelda's under the spell for a bit longer I think. 
> 
> Happy Birthday @hacklesacademy. 
> 
> Title from "Criminal" by Fiona Apple

The woman looking back from the mirror in front of her looked so pretty. The fire crackling besider her made her hair so sparkly. Zelda turned her head to the left and then to the right and watched as the pretty woman in the mirror did the same, her delicate earrings shining behind her meticulously curled hair. She was so pretty Zelda wished she could kiss her. 

Slowly, methodically, she opened the small gold case beside her, long red nails clicking gently against the metal. She watched as the pretty red-pink of her favorite lipstick emerged from its tube before turning back to the mirror. Pausing, she pouted her lips and admired the effect -- just the way her husband liked best, a little soft, not too tense -- before she began to swipe the color across her pretty canvas: first her plump bottom lip, gently massaging the color into the sensitive skin, then curving up to her dainty cupid's bow. She let herself circle around again, teasing her skin with the soft, creamy texture until it was all just perfect and she had to press her lips together, letting them kiss each other. It felt almost like her favorite reward. 

Once she had been so silly and had taken it upon herself to blot off some of the pretty color after she had just put it on. She thought it would help everyone stay neat and tidy and stop those ugly red smears. But his unholy eminence had explained why that was such a foolish thought. He needed those bright red clues didn't he? He had to make sure she was being a good girl and hadn't done anything naughty that he would have to help her correct. Of course, her husband had known best. She was such a lucky girl. 

She wished he were here now. She had been waiting so long in the parlor while his unholy eminence met with his council of advisors. She hated being apart for so long. Of course her husband was very important and had very important meetings because he was a very important man. But waiting was always so hard. 

At last she heard footsteps down the hallway, voices spilling out and coming closer. 

"Gentlemen, gentlemen, please take a seat. After such a productive evening, I'm sure you've all worked up a bit of an appetite. Ah, Zelda, dearest, here you are." 

She felt her stomach flutter as her husband entered the room and walked towards her. 

"Help our guests with some refreshment, won't you?" He settled in his winged chair near the fire and gestured at the wine on the side table where she had carefully laid out the wine and sugary treats. 

"Yes, your unholy eminence." 

It was so lovely to have something to do again. It felt almost like dancing as she wove back and forth between the high-backed chairs, stepping softly in her shiny red heels, her silk-satin skirt twirling in a circle as she spun from place to place, ensuring that, one after another, each glass was filled with deep burgundy liquid and each councilor offered a sweet morsel from the tray piled high with chocolate truffles, mille feuille, madeleines and macarons she had made that morning. 

"She really is quite a marvel, Faustus," Brother Bierce murmured as he selected a pink-tinged raspberry and rose macaron. "I must say, I've never seen such a flawless Caligari in all my years. A true testament to your prowess."

She could feel the compliment wash over her, so warm and soft, like a cashmere stole. 

"You're too kind, Brother." Her husband raised his glass, giving a gentle nod at his councilor. "And you've only just begun to see how beautifully she can perform." 

The room was so pleasantly warm. Her husband was smiling at her and she performed beautifully. Yes, that was true, it must be, because her very important husband had said so. Beautiful. 

"The true achievement of it, if I may be so bold your eminence, isn't just this lovely outcome," Zelda filled the final glass with wine and vanished the empty bottle as Brother Barker spoke, "but to think of what a recalcitrant subject you started with." 

His voice trailed off as several councilors snickered and her husband let out a bark of a laugh, "speak your mind Brother, you are after all among friends." 

Her husband met her gaze and crooked his fingers to beckon her towards him. She slid into his lap gratefully, her skirt fanning out across the leather as she settled. 

She nuzzled her face into his neck. She wished she could curl up somehow so that every inch of her was pressed against him. His hand slid slowly up her thigh, petting her warm, smooth skin in teasing little strokes. 

"Well," Brother Barker continued, "I know you were always partial to the woman, but, forgive me your eminence, but it never seemed she gave you the proper-" he paused for a moment before finding the word, "gratitude for your partiality."

Faustus smirked. "Put it plainly Brother: she was a stuck-up, frigid, little bitch when I married her?" 

The room fell into a tense silence, each councilor wondering if Barker had gone too far before Faustus let out another bark of laughter, "How right you are, Brother!"

Zelda was always so confused when she listened to her husband and his councilors. Sometimes it seemed like they were talking about her but when she tried to pay attention it made her head so light and dizzy, just like when her husband twirled her around the dance floor over and over and over again and then she couldn't focus on anything. 

The men around the room snickered in relief but Zelda had eyes only for her husband who had set down his glass and lifted her chin with one finger until she had twisted to face him completely. 

His other hand teased higher and higher up her thigh until his nails could gently scrape against the pink lace panties he had given her to wear that morning. She couldn't stop herself from whimpering, her mouth opening and closing as she fought not to moan. 

"They don't know the half of it, do they Zelda?" His nail pressed hard her delicate skin on her neck, sharp and unyielding.

This time she knew he was talking to her but she couldn't think what he wanted her to say. The half of what? How could she know something that his very important councilors didn't? 

His other hand kept teasing her and it felt so good, but the harder she tried to answer his question the dizzier she became. She whimpered, bucking her hips.

"Oh dear, does Lady Blackwood want something from her anti-pope?" 

She did, so much but before she could properly beg for what she so desperately needed he pulled his hand away from her and almost snarled at her, "But Zelda, I thought this pretty cunt was just too special for me to play with?" 

Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion just as, with a sharp shove of his shoulders on hers, he pushed her from his lap. She fell to the floor, sprawling at his feet, her legs bare as her skirt slid askew and her hair tousled from its crisp curls. 

"Isn't that what you insisted, Zelda? That you were off limits to your high priest?"

She felt so disoriented. She moved to kneel properly in front of his chair but her limbs felt leaden. 

"Why don't you explain your little ultimatum to my councilors?" He paused to take a sip of his wine and she reached out to try and shift close enough to touch his leg. But he brushed her aside, impatient. "Come now, Zelda. Don't you remember? A few weeks ago, in my office, after your teaching?" 

It was so hazy. She certainly remembered being in his office. She had often been in his office: on the chaise or on his desk or on her knees. 

Faustus raised his eyebrow, tapping his finger in a practiced move to telegraph his impatience. 

“Stop stalling, Lady Blackwood.”

She was disappointing him and the very thought of it twisted and slid down her spine like blackened tar, burning and aching with shame. 

She tried again, but every time she tried to remember what horrible thing she could have said, what horrible thing she might have been thinking, all she could see was smoke, wafting over her and the tinkle of soft music. All she could remember is wanting him, wanting him so much, but something had stopped her from having him all the time, and she couldn't understand what that might have been. What could have been more important than being his good girl?

“I can't remember, your eminence.” Her voice was shaking. She was on the verge of tears already. 

“Oh no, you don’t?” Some of the men around the room chuckled but Zelda couldn't have turned away from her husband and his cold smile even for Satan himself. 

She shook her head. 

His smile widened as he leaned down over her slowly, “Shall I help remind you?”


	2. Chapter 2

Zelda nodded immediately, her voice shaking, "Please your unholy eminence." 

Her husband smiled at her in response, and for a moment it felt as though he had breathed fresh air into her lungs as she gasped fruitlessly, suffocating. He leaned over her, his smile almost wolfish, and let his hand caress the side of her face softly. She sighed and began to turn to kiss it, but then he stood, pushing her aside and moving to stand by the fire. 

The flames framed him on either side, as though he had summoned them from the pit below and could unleash them in punishment at any moment. Zelda couldn't stop herself from trembling that the vision, but her husband ignored her, surveying his councilors. 

"As you may recall, after the passing of my dear, beloved Constance, Sister Spellman began pursuing me," he paused and smiled, his teeth glinting, "well, like the insatiable little whore she was. I could scarcely begin to mourn the loss of my wife, before she turned up at my office, looking like a cheap tart and positively begging for attention. Naturally I offered her what council I could, as any dutiful servant of Satan would, but it quickly became clear that dear Miss Spellman required, shall we say," he licked his lips as though the memory he had conjured had him salivating, "a different kind of assistance."

The councilors around the room snickered as Faustus smiled down at her. 

"Brothers, I confess, I'd never met such a needy, cock hungry whore in all my centuries. If it appeared, as you say, that I had developed an unhealthy partiality for the witch, well, it was merely that I had seldom encountered such arrogant brat and it took all my years of ecclesiastical experience to begin to curb such a impudent behavior." 

Her husband paused to leisurely sip his wine, seeming almost expectant, until Brother Lovecraft broke the silence.

"Might you enlighten us to your methods, your eminence? I'm sure I speak for all of your council when I say that you must have so many valuable insights after such an experience."

"Indeed Brother, indeed I do," Faustus nodded to him, pleased at the question, "I prayed to our Dark Lord Satan on countless occasions for how to handle such a witch and I confess, I believed that with his sage teachings I had her well in hand. A judicious use of the cat-o-nine tails when correction was required, and a series of corporal rewards to incentivize proper behavior and I believe the bitch well-tamed." He sighed, sipping his wine once more, "but alas, Brothers, you must learn from my mistake. I'm afraid the devious Miss Spellman had sought only to lull me to a false sense of security."

Faustus turned to look his wife in the eye, drinking in her fearful expression as though it were sweeter than the petit fours she'd served him earlier. "Didn't you, my dear?"

She couldn't imagine it. She sounded so terrible. She wasn't devious - she was a good girl. She shook her head in disbelief, her breathing shaky her husband moved closer to wear she sat on the floor. 

"Come now, do you still not remember, wife? Perhaps this will jog your memory?"

He waved his hand and Zelda felt a rush of air brush across her skin, sweeping away her pretty dress and heels and leaving behind something stiff, tight and unyielding. Zelda looked down and was disgusted to find herself not wrapped in a pretty soft pink or rose but instead some thick, dark purple woolen garment. She could never imagine wearing such a thing. The jacket felt so constricting and the skirt seemed so tight. She didn't think it would twirl at all, even if she spun round and round for ages. 

"That's it Zelda, stand up now." His hand beckoned her forward and she stood immediately, her legs trembling, but careful not to trip or fall in her heels. She felt so strange and heavy in this unusual clothes, as though they were iron bars, caging her in. 

"Now Brothers, to set the scene, I ask the slut to come by for a private audience after teaching, thinking perhaps that she had been a dutiful mistress to our satanic choir and had earned a reward. Perhaps you too are fooled by this flimsy shroud of propriety she wrapped around her, hm? Zelda, remove your jacket." 

She sighed in gratitude, unbuttoning and letting the thick stiff wool fall immediately. She was dismayed to find that the garment underneath felt just as caging and only then did she remember she'd worn something like this before. But it had been a pretty, pale and pink for their honeymoon and not this harsh and angry black. The sheer lace and boning squeezed her so tight. She had to take lots of little, teeny breaths, almost panting as she looked out at the councilors, who shook their head head at her in mock dismay. 

"And to think, she'd instructed our impressionable youths in such attire. I shudder to think of how dreadfully she must have tormented those poor boys. What a heartless cocktease. Go on Zelda, show them," he gestured, waving one hand while almost hiding his face in the other. 

She blinked, biting her lip and turning from her husband, to the men around the room, and then back to Faustus, unsure how to behave. 

"Oh, come now Zelda," He pulled her to him, her back to his front and gripped her neck with one hand, steering her like a marionette. He pushed so that she bent forward, at her waist, "Yes, that's it, you'd lean like this over those desks, wouldn't you?" 

She understood now, remembering the movements like a little dance, "Yes, your eminence, so that I could correct their work." She pressed her chest out as best as she was able and mimed writing on an invisible desk, smiling as she looked out at all the rapt attention she had from the council. They must like this dance as much as his unholy eminence did. 

He released her, pushing her forward toward the side table for her next position. She slid up onto the edge of the table, and slowly crossed her legs. It was harder to do in this horrible tight skirt. She had to slide it up her thighs before she could manage. 

"And sometimes I would lecture the class, just like this." She smiled wide, as she paused before sliding off the table and walking towards the wall, letting her hand mime drawing cursive just like he had shown her, "Or I would write very important things on the board."

She paused, turning back to smile at the councilors as they watched, before twirling to her final position, leaning forward and feigning anger, "And sometimes, students misbehaved, so I'd rap their knuckles with my ruler." She held out one hand, and swiftly brought the other down in a hard smack, to mime the punishment. "Or I'd spank them with it instead." She arched her back and twisted just enough to give herself a good firm spank, deadened a bit by the woolen fabric.

"Well, as I'm sure you concur, Brothers, after learning of this behavior, I knew at once some correction was in order. I offered to take her unholy confession, to allow her to repent and atone. Imagine my surprise when I was rebuffed." 

A murmur of dismay echoed through the room.

"Indeed, brothers, indeed. I too was shocked at the behavior. And then the arrogant little tart, laid bare her demands: she would flout my authority as her high priest," the murmurs echoed again around the room, and Zelda couldn't help by shake her head in dismay and disbelief, "refuse her weekly confessions and atonements," another series of murmurs, "and deny any corporeal pleasures, unless I put a ring on her conniving finger." 

The council exchanged shocked expressions as Faustus returned to his chair, carelessly gesturing for her to kneel before him. She nearly fell in her haste to comply, her legs bound together by her skirt and unsteady. 

"Isn't that right, dearest? I tried to take care of you didn’t I? You were so needy and I gave you everything you wanted until little miss perfect decided it wasn’t enough.” He spoke quickly, anger patent in ever word. She was shaking all over, tossing her head back and forth as though her curls could brush away his horrible words. 

“And then you tossed me aside didn’t you? Decided you’d rather fuck these slutty fingers than be my good girl, isn’t that right?”

“No!” she couldn't stop herself, it all sounded so terrible, so awful.

“No?” He was smiling again, but she knew it wasn't because he was pleased. She was panting for air, dizzy and lightheaded, like she was a little toy top he was spinning round and round in the schoolyard. “You didn’t deny me, Zelda? Didn’t make me put a ring on that finger just to stop your own selfish behavior destroying my coven?”

She shook her head again, but then, that wasn't right, was it? She could feel the ring on her finger, could see it glinting, all shiny gold and glittering diamonds. And he had married her, she could remember that. It had been so warm and cozy and they had danced and danced. 

Of course he was right. Her husband always knew best. She had been such a bad girl before she met him. She was so lucky he would help her make it better. 

She looked up at him, desperate to make it better. “I did, your eminence. I’m so sorry.”

He smiled and nodded ever so slightly. Her words must be making it better. “Please forgive me I was, I was," it was so hard to think of the right words, "I was such a stupid slut and I, I,” she hiccuped, and tried again, fighting not to cry, “I regretted it, regretted ever refusing you. I always wanted you and it was so hard not being your good girl. Please, your unholy eminence, please let me repent.”

Faustus raked his eyes over the tableau laid out before him: his council with their hungry eyes, so eager for whatever scraps he might bless them with, and his delicious wife, positively trembling on her knees, her tits on display, nearly spilling out of that hellish contraption. He could do whatever he liked to her now and all she'd do is beg for more. 

He pretended to consider his decision, reaching into the box next to his chair to retrieve one of his cigars, cutting it appropriately, and then setting it smoldering with a flick of his fingers. 

“Well councilors?" He breathed out a sharp circle of smoke, "What do you think? Should we help my arrogant slut of a wife repent her sins?”

Zelda didn't dare turn to look as the councilors murmured. She stayed still, even as her knees protested the hard wooden floor, until a voice spoke up behind her.

"I believe we're in agreement, your eminence." Brother Stoker's voice seemed almost strained but his words left Zelda giddy with relief. "Let's give your wife the punishment she so richly deserves."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The corset is sort of this - https://www.net-a-porter.com/en-us/shop/product/dolce-and-gabbana/grosgrain-trimmed-lace-bustier-top/1198484 - but with actual boning. I thought Zelda wearing a corset was an invention of my fevered subconscious but, lo and behold, when she whips herself in Season 1 and Hilda comes to comfort her, she's wearing (an admittedly more practical) black corset. And note, earlier in that episode she was in the purple suit from The Ultimatum (tm) scene, so I take this pairing of garments as practically canon. (What do you mean, I've rewatched too much?)
> 
> If anyone's curious her lipstick from Ch. 1 is this Charlotte Tilbury's electric poppy, but mostly because I'm obsessed CTs packaging and they do in fact use CT on the show.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note the tags have been updated. Don't look if you don't want to be spoiled. Do look if you don't want to be triggered.

“Well then, up you get,” Faustus said, patting his lap as though summoning a puppy. She stood as gracefully as she could, moving to straddle him the way he liked. 

"Tsk, tsk," her husband chastised. He grasped her wrist and spun her around until her back was to his front before sliding his hand to the waistband of her skirt. 

"And this won't do at all." With a sharp twist and a murmured spell the thick fabric ripped, falling into scraps onto the floor. Zelda sighed in relief, so glad to be rid of the horrible garment. 

She settled herself on his lap as he beckoned her once again. It felt so good to be pressed against him again, breathing in the rich woody scent of his cigar and cologne. She could feel his cock pressed against her, straining his trousers as it hardened. Almost without thinking she shifted herself back to rub herself against it, desperate for more. 

He scoffed, pushing her forward, pulling her legs wide apart and shifting her until she's settled just before his knees, balanced precariously, her bare cunt spread open to the cool air. 

“You haven’t nearly earned that, my sweet,” he whispered in her ear, pulling her arms behind her back, so that she understood she was to hold them there, and not to move. 

She looked out at all his councilors. Several of them had shifted, moving their chairs closer or standing for a better view. They must think she looked so pretty and just the thought of it seemed to calm her frazzled nerves for a moment. 

“Now, slut," his words cut through her like fresh scalpel, "what was it that you said was off limits to me? I want you to show my councilors, so they can begin to understand what a naughty girl I married.”

He sounded angry again. But how could she make him happy? She wasn't supposed to use her hands, was she? Not after he had pulled them away. 

But before she could try to respond, he spoke again, chiding, “Tsk, tsk, let me help. Was it here?” She felt two fingers thrust roughly into her mouth, pulling out and then fucking back in hard. She moaned at the touch and began to lick and suck immediately.

But just as quickly, he pulled away, dragging his wet fingers across her cheek, smearing a streak of red across her pale skin, before smacking it lightly so that she turned to face the crowd once more, “No, I didn’t think so. Was it these?”

His hand trailed down her neck, before settling over one of the fragile lace cups of her corset, circling her nipple through the lace. She let out a half-stifled gasp as he raked his nails across the fabric, not hard enough to scrape the skin but hard enough to tease. 

"What was that, Zelda? Did you tell me these pretty titties were off limits?” 

"No!" Her voice broke at the thought, "never, your eminence." She could never have ever said that? The very thought of it has her lightheaded. 

“No? Are you quite sure Zelda?" Faustus smiled as he leaned forward, blowing a stream of smoke just past her ear as he teased her nipples, circling them again and again so that she let out a whimper of frustration. Satan, his wife had always been so deliciously sensitive here. "Aren't you keeping them all wrapped up and hidden away from me right now? Like little naughty presents you won't let me open?”

The men around the room began to nod in agreement and Zelda hung her head in dismay. She was such a bad girl.

“Let me help, hm?" And with another murmured spell and a sharp rip from his fingers, the lace shredded into pieces. She could still feel the fabric below, tight and sturdy, holding her upright, but the lace that had been covering her above hung limp in scraps, baring her to the crowd. 

"That's better, isn't it?" Zelda nodded as Faustus massaged her tits, lifting them up slowly, "What do you think, Brothers?" Faustus let go briefly, letting them bounce, before grasping them again. 

The crowd murmured its approval. 

"How very naughty to have kept these hidden away from us, isn't that right Zelda?" 

She nodded immediately. Her hips rocked back and forth almost unconsciously now, as her husband pinched one nipple and then the other, "Yes, your eminence." 

He let them fall, retrieving his cigar once more, breathing out a plume of smoke that left her dizzy. 

"Don't worry dearest, we’ll burn those dreadful instincts right out of you.”

She could feel the heat radiating off the tip of his cigar as he removed it from his mouth and brought it front of him, holding it before her and tilting it, until the smoldering tip was just above her nipple. With a smirk he pressed it against her skin for just a moment, searing hot and blinding.

She cried out, tears falling down her cheek as her skin smarted. She could see the angry red mark forming on her skin, not a deep burn, but harsh enough to sting horribly in the cool air. He pressed a kiss behind her ear, as he slowly move the cigar again until it hovered over unblemished skin on her other side. He let it tease for a moment, the heat and anticipation building, until he pressed it down again, Zelda letting out a choked wail in response. 

"That's it Lady Blackwood, let it out." He pressed another kiss behind her ear and she trembled with how soft and sweet he sounded, "we'll leach out all those nasty impulses, won't we?" 

She nodded, tears still streaking down her face, her whole body seeming to dissolve into two twin circles of scorching pain. 

“And what else was off limits, dearest? What else did my precious girl want to keep all to herself?”

She knew the answer, but her limbs felt so heavy, as though he was calling to her from the shore as she floated at the bottom of the sea. 

He grasped one of her hands and pulled it forward, setting it on her lap, impatient in his anticipation. “Show me, Zelda.” 

Slowly, as though dreaming, she slid her hand up her thigh to rest on her cunt. 

“That’s right," Faustus murmured approvingly as his hand joined hers. He pressed her fingers down harder, so that together they rubbed against her clit and pressed inside, fingers entwined together. "You wanted to keep this hot," he pulled her back and pressed in again, "wet," he repeated his motion, their hands fucking her, "delicious," this time she couldn't stop her moan, her hips bucking up to meet their fingers, "needy cunt all to yourself," and this time when he brought their hands down again, he straightened the angle, forcing her palm to smack hard and stinging, just over her clit. 

"Didn’t you, Zelda?” He brought her hand down again when she didn't answer immediately, "Didn't you?"

"Yes, oh yes, your eminence," she sobbed out, so desperate to feel him touch her again. He held her hand fast as her side, leaving her empty and aching. 

“But it's my little toy now, isn't it?”

"All yours," She nodded immediately, trying to lean back so that she could feel more of him, starved of his touch after he'd just given her so much. 

“Are you quite sure, Lady Blackwood? Let’s see,” and letting go of her hand, he brought his cigar out in front of her, pivoting it slowly, so that the unlit tip where his lips had just held it faced her, and lowered slowly. She could feel the heat still emanating from the other end as he moved it just until the end dragged over her dripping folds, her skin is so swollen and sensitive that she felt hot all over. He let the tip press just inside her walls before pulling it away, back up to his lips.

He made a show of it. She could hear him hum in satisfaction, before, with a deep breath, he released another plume of smoke into the silent room.

“Oh no, it seems you're right Zelda. My favorite toy is nice and wet for me now, so sweet and needy.” 

She whimpered as he paused, taking another drag from his cigar, leaving her open and on display.

“But you must have your penance, Zelda. What sort of antipope would I be if I let my own wife off without proper correction, hm?”

She nodded, almost eager for what was to come. He brought his cigar forward once again, and as he did he leaned forward, his voice at her ear. 

"Do you wish to repent, Lady Blackwood?"

She nodded, panting in anticipation, "Yes, your eminence." 

"Ask properly." He held the cigar inches from her skin, so close she could feel its heat warming her sensitive skin and she let out a stream of pleading whimpers, desperate for anything he would give her. 

"Go on then, Zelda." He held the cigar steady, and Zelda held her breath as she canted her hips forward, until the smoldering tip pressed just above her clit, where her skin was soft and smooth. For a moment the pain was so sharp and and blinding she lost herself to it, dragged away by its undertow with only the soft touch of her husband to anchor her. 

Everything felt sharper and brighter. Her husband pressed a series of kisses down her neck and she could just feel that he was happy with her. 

“There now, that’s better isn’t it precious? That pretty cunt is mine now, isn’t it?” He stroked it gently, his fingers settling around the angry red circle, and teasing her clit. 

She nodded, wishing she could curl up in his lap, “All yours, your eminence, just yours.”

Faustus let out a dark chuckle, “Oh Zelda, I don’t know if it’s just mine." 

He leaned back, looking out to his council in anticipation, "After all dearest, you have so many others to whom you must make amends, don’t you?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More updated tags...

Her stomach fell; she hadn't realized she had done even more terrible things and she didn't know how to make it better. It was so hard to be clever with words the way he liked. She got dizzy just thinking about it. 

“What of all these fine warlocks on my council? Don't they deserve proper apologies for your behavior?” Her husband leaned forward and cupped her cunt again. Zelda relaxed into his touch, as his fingers brushed against her clit. She couldn't help but let out a whimper as she nodded, biting her lip in dismay.

“You bent over in those tight little skirts and smeared on all that slutty lipstick and whenever they tried to be nice and polite and feed you their big, hard cocks, what did you do?”

“She laughed in our faces,” one of the council called out from the crowd. Zelda’s lip trembled in shame as she looked out at all of them. A few had begun to stroke their cocks and just watching them made her so hungry. Why would she have ever turned away such very important men, her husband's trusted councilors? 

“That’s right,” Faustus nodded, his tone stern, “my wife teased all of you didn’t she?”

There was a murmur of hungry agreement around the room. 

“I think it’s high time she offer some reparations, don’t you?”

Another murmur of agreement echoed from the surrounding group. Zelda could barely make out all their faces in the dim light. It was all so hazy. The air was thick with smoke and her head was spinning. 

"Well then, come forward gentlemen." Faustus opened his hand to the crowd in invitation, "I will sit in judgement as your antipope and adjudicate past transgressions." 

“I have a grievance, your eminence.” Brother Hill moved forward until he stood beside them. 

“By all means, Brother, air it,” Faustus hummed approvingly into Zelda’s neck before kissing it teasingly, so that she had to fight not to squirm in response. 

“I wonder if your wife recalls her little midday routine after lunch? Seated across the table from me, licking her lips as she finished her food?"

She furrowed her brow in concentration, trying in vane to guess what she might have done, until her gracious husband took pity on her, retrieving with a wave of his fingers, the gold metal tube she had held earlier this evening.

“Go on, Zelda. Show them," he said as he handed her the lipstick.

She took the metal tube and slowly began her ritual anew, twisting the bright color up and up and opening her mouth to a wide "O" before circling the color around and around until it was surely vibrant and dark. It was so hard to know that she was doing it right without a mirror. And what if she had smeared on too much? After a few moments, she pressed her lips together in a kiss, that she blew out to Brother Hill, hoping he'd find her pretty enough to forgive.

Some men around the room chuckled at the display and she couldn't understand why it would be funny. 

Brother Hill turned back to them, “You see?" He turned back to her husband, "You see what this slut did everyday? Tell me Lady Blackwood, did you know every warlock in the room would spend the rest of the day imagining that lipstick smeared all over his cock instead?”

Zelda moaned at the thought. Faustus's hand slid down her body and began to tease her cunt. She felt so hungry, so empty. Her eyes fell to Brother Hill's cock, still hidden, pressed against his trousers. 

“Of course you did, you filthy tease. That’s why you did it isn’t it?”

She shook her head immediately. She wasn't filthy tease now; she was a good, she could be so good. She whimpered, desperate to atone.

“I wonder Brother,” Faustus said, as he tweaked her nipples in a harsh pinch in punishment, “what penance you’d think appropriate for such behavior?”

"I think perhaps we ought to see if those lips are still just a vicious tease." He cupped his cock through his trousers and Zelda's mouth watered at the thought. "What do you think, your eminence?"

Oh please, oh please, oh please. She couldn't stop the metronome beginning in her mind, over and over again.

“Quite right.” And suddenly her husband’s hands were gone and with a sharp push she was tumbling forward to the floor, catching herself on her hands before leaning back onto her knees properly, eager to begin.

“What do we say, Zelda?” her husband chastised.

Oh please, oh please, oh please, “Thank you Brother Hill for helping me repent.”

"Very good, Zelda, very good," her husband murmured, leaving her warm all over with his praise. "Go on then, Satan knows, you know what to do." 

At that some of the surrounding men chuckled, but Zelda had already moved forward, hungrily pulling open his trousers and opening her mouth wide to take him in.

“My pleasure, Lady Blackwood,” he groaned as she began to suck, his hands gripping her hair as she slid her lips all the way down his length until she began to choke, before bobbing her head back and diving again, moaning at how good it felt to have her mouth full again.

Zelda was so warm and tingly. She loved the feeling of this, feeling just how much he wanted her. He was so hard and all for her and tasted so good and bitter and salty. He must think she was such a good girl, that’s why he was thrusting so far and filling her mouth so much that she keeps choking a bit.

"Lucifer, this bitch knows what she's doing," he groaned, his hips bucking faster.

Faustus watched the display with hungry eyes, palming his own cock gently, "Even as my pupil, I admit Miss Spellman showed an conspicuous aptitude for cock-sucking. But I must say, since our nuptials, I have noticed a marked improvement in, shall we say, her enthusiasm." 

Another chorus of chuckles as Zelda felt another hand stroke through her hair. She moaned as Faustus pet her curls sweetly before, with a sharp tug, he pulled her back. She spluttered, gasping for breath, spit slipping down her chin. 

"Observe." He pushed her forward once again, as she greedily swallowed down Brother Hill's cock, groaning in pleasure. He pushed her even further and held her fast, her mouth utterly full, her eyes watering as she choked. "See how desperate she is, how eager?" He pulled her back and and she gasped for air as he angled her head so that she could lick and suck Brother Hill's balls instead. Her husband was so generous, helping her do a good job for his friend.

“That’s it darling," he murmured behind her. "Those lips aren't just a tease now, are they?”

She would have shaken her head in response but she found she couldn't move in any direction. She was pinned between her husband’s hand and Brother Hill and all she could do is whimper as best she could in response.

“No, no they aren’t, my precious girl.” His voice sounded so soft and gentle, that higher pitched sing-song tone she loved so much, “We’ll have them all bruised and red from all this cock sucking, won’t we?”

She whimpered her agreement, sucking noisily, floating on this feeling.

Her revery was broken by another voice, “I’d have some reparations too, your eminence.” 

“By all means, Brother Stoker,” Faustus smiled at the man, as he leaned back from his wife, pleased at the show unfolding before him. “Tell the council how my wife has wronged you.”

“Lady Blackwood here once came to my office and sat on my desk and flashed her slutty stockings at me while she chastised my scripture choice. This little tart thought I would be so cuntstruck I’d let her do whatever she wanted.”

A titter broke off around the room and Brother Hill’s rhythm faltered so that Zelda had to splutter to catch up.

"And when I slid a hand up her thigh, like she so desperately wanted, the slut had the nerve to act outraged, as though she was some paragon of virtue," he scoffed. 

Faustus nodded sedately, "I'm glad you've brought this to my attention, Brother. I had feared my wife's treacherous behavior was more extensive than I'd known." 

Fear kindled in Zelda's core, lapping up the sides of her stomach like a bonfire. She had been so naughty but she wasn't now, she swore. She was a good girl, with her mouth full of cock just the way he liked it.

“But I think I have just the punishment in mind, if you’ll allow it, your eminence?”

“Naturally," Faustus waved his hand magnanimously, "it would be rude to deny you justice after such an affront.”

“Very kind,” Brother Stoker said, gently inclining his head before turning to study the scene before him. “Now let’s see.” As his voice trailed off, Zelda could feel her body tugged by invisible ropes. Her head remained still, her lips around Brother Hill’s cock, while her hips were tugged up and back. She caught herself on her hands and knees, pushing herself up as best she could so that her back settled, horizontal, her hips arched. 

With no warning, a hand struck down, hard, spanking her ass so that she can feel it jiggle and shake in response, heat rising to the surface of her skin. The stinging burn of it feels so good, makes her forget that her jaw is sore and her knees are numb. It rains down again and she groaned in pleasure, panting and licking all the skin within reach, arching her back in anticipation. But no blow came. 

“Oh dear,” Brother Stoker murmured, “It seems the slut’s enjoying her punishment, Faustus?”

Faustus tutted, leaning forward again to pull Zelda’s hair sharply so that Brother Hill’s cock slipped from her lips, smacking against her cheek before he pulled away, replacing her mouth with his hand. He twisted her hair until she had turned to look him in the eyes, her own gaze glassy with pleasure. 

“Is that true precious? Are you enjoying getting that tight ass spanked in front of all these important men?”

It was so hard to think. She knew only bad, bratty girls would enjoy being punished. But she could feel her cunt she dripping down her thighs, and she couldn't lie to him. 

She nodded, “Yes, your eminence.”

She expected him to snarl in response to her shameful admission but instead he smiled, his eyes dark. 

“Is that so?” Faustus stroked the hand not wound in her hair down her back, raking his nails over the two red marks blooming on her ass, before pushing past them, “Is your greedy, little cunt getting all wet and needy?” He let two fingers dip too gently into her dripping pussy. Zelda's hips bucked and she let out a whine, loud and desperate. It felt so good. She would do anything for his cock right now, anything at all. 

“Yes, husband,” she whimpered, pushing herself back on his hand in vain. 

“Well, we can’t have that now can we?” He pulled his hand away abruptly and brought it down in another smack, harder than the last. Faustus released her entirely, casting her aside before turning back to Brother Stoker.

“Not to worry Brother, I have just the remedy.” 

Her husband reached slowly around to the side of his chair, pulling his cane into the light.

She couldn't take her eyes off of it, the smooth wood and rabbit-skull handle glinting in the firelight. Faustus let the wood fall gently on his own palm, watching Zelda's face carefully. She flinched, whimpering. 

“That's right, you don’t like it when I use my nasty cane on that sweet ass, do you?”

She shook her head, her lip trembling, watching as it whistled through the air again. He smiled but somehow it did nothing to quell her fear. He leaned forward, motioning for her to resume her position on all fours.

“That’s the point, sweetling." He stroked her skin for a moment before bringing the cane down gently, letting it bounce against her ass a few times in quick succession, a taunting facsimile of what was to come. “Naughty girls aren't supposed to enjoy their punishment.”

He leaned back into his chair as he held out the cane to Brother Stoker who took it greedily. Zelda shook in anticipation. 

“Don’t bother being too gentle,” her husband commanded casually, as he settled back in his chair, “we want our message to sink in, don’t we?”

“Yes, your eminence,” Brother Stoker replied and with a whistle through the air, he struck immediately, leaving a sharp pink lash in his wake. 

She cried out, the pain coursing through her like a large gulp of too-strong whiskey, stinging and leaving her feeling flushed all over. 

He struck again, criss-crossing the first blow and leaving her panting. She looked up to see Brother Hill stroking his cock in front of her, just out of reach of her lips. She leaned forward, desperate to taste it again, but he merely brushed it across her lips and shifted away and out of reach, chuckling. It was so unfair. He’d liked her mouth so much, she knew he did. She wanted him to like it again.

The cane struck a third time, lower and over the tops of her thighs and Zelda whined, unable to stop her hips from rolling slowly, fucking the air back and forth as much as she dared.

“What is it, precious?” Faustus asked, and as she turned to face him she can see him stroking his cock and it feels as if he's doing it just to mock her. “Does my naughty girl not like her punishment?”

She couldn't think of the right words, could barely think at all. She whined again, only able to managing to whimper, "please," as she nearly cried in frustration. 

“Please what?” he replied sharply. Brother Stoker swung the cane down again, and Faustus continued, "please can you taste Brother Hill's nice come?" 

Her whole body shuddered with want at his words, "Yes, oh please, oh please. I'll be good." 

“Oh no, dearest. No, you haven't earned that have you?" Faustus gripped himself hard to stop himself from coming at the sight before him. His achingly beautiful wife absolutely wrecked with lust, as all his council looked on in equal parts envy and desire. "Only good girls get tasty treats. You know that.”

Zelda whimpered, her arms unsteady, her legs shaking. 

“Maybe she could try to catch it, your eminence,” Brother Hill's voice was strained as he spoke.

Zelda looked to her husband hopefully, not sure she understood. 

Faustus let out a laugh, not looking at her, “What a delightful notion, Brother. Yes, that would be quite appropriate.”

He turned to Zelda once more, “Go on then, get that mouth nice and open like a good slut." 

Brother Stoker lashed her again and her mouth fell open in a groan of pain that she let stretch her wider and wider

“Catch every drop, Zelda," her husband warned. "You wouldn't want to get all messy.” 

Zelda nodded, immediately, keeping her mouth open wide, and as she did Brother Hill let out a groan, coming in spurts as he fisted his cock. She leaned to the side and then up and then down, trying to taste as much as she can. She knew she must look silly because a few of the men in the room chuckled. 

She licked her lips as she swallowed, letting out a little moan to show how grateful she was. 

“Well, let’s see how well you did, my dear,” her husband said, beckoning her forward and gesturing his councilors to move aside. She crawled towards him, her legs too unsteady to hold her.

He lifted her chin with his hand, running his thumb across her cheek and around the edge of her lips.

"Satan below, you're filthy, darling." He sounded absolutely delighted at the thought, pulling his hand away to show her, his skin red-pink and sticky. 

Zelda positively trembled, following his hand with her eyes as though mesmerized. He licked his lips at the sight. 

His voice was unexpectedly rough when he spoke. “Clean it up," he said, pushing her thumb into her open and eager mouth.


	5. Chapter 5

His eyes flashed as he watched the display in front of him: his wife suckling his fingers like they were dripping in life-saving ambrosia; her perfect crown of curls debauched, tousled and messy; her lipstick smeared beyond repair; the subtle kohl around her eyes smudged by tears, now emboldened, almost reminiscent of her earlier visage. 

For a moment, he imagined it really was her that he had before him instead. He imagined the stern matriarch of the Spellman family positively shaking with need, looking up at him as though he'd lit the fire of the pit himself; the high priest's baby sister, always too ambitious, too beautiful, and completely forbidden, now inches away and quivering at the chance to touch him. The very notion was almost too overwhelmingly delicious to consider. Just imagining what dear Edward would say if he could see her now had him almost painfully hard.

"What, oh, what am I to do with you, hm?" She curled herself towards him as though his mere presence was keeping her warm in the cold, flicking her tongue against the pad of each of his fingers. 

"Oh my precious little doll," he whispered, stroking down her face gently. "Come here, sweetheart," he said, tugging her into his lap, so that she was facing him properly this time. She bit her lip, sliding as close as she dared until she could just brush against his cock, thick and hard against her stomach. 

"Good girls get rewarded, don't they Zelda?"

She nodded, hardly daring to believe it, already trying to rub herself against him. 

"And have you been a good girl for me, Lady Blackwood?" She bit her lip to stop her responding whimper as she nodded. "Did you take all my nasty punishments like a good girl would?" His fingers brushed over her burned skin, leaving her whimpering. He let his hands drop slowly until they gripped her ass, pressing on the blossoming bruises there and pulling her forward until her clit rubbed hard against his cock. 

Zelda's head fell back in pleasure as she whined her assent. Faustus leered at the sight, "And do you promise to always be a good slut for me now, precious? Never keep this pretty cunt from me again?" 

She nodded and nodded, not wanting to stop even for a moment as his hands rocked her hips back and forth, so that her wet cunt pressed against his length, teasing them both but not yet angled to press inside where she wanted him most. 

"But how can I trust you darling?" He pressed a kiss to her neck as he mocked, "After you were so naughty and denied me?" 

She whimpered, almost frantic, searching his gaze for any hint of mercy. He smiled down at her, lifting her hips so that she could angle herself appropriately. 

"Show me, dearest," he whispered, "Show me what a good cock whore you can be for your antipope."

She felt as though lightening had struck after growling rolls of thunder. She was almost clumsy with desire as she felt him fill her at last, her legs trembling as she raised herself up and fell again, harder this time. 

"That's it darling, show me how hard you'll work for it." Faustus's voice was rough as he spoke, but it was nothing compared to the tortured cries of his wife. She couldn't stop her hips from moving faster and faster.

He bent to lick across her breasts, teasing one nipple before swiping across her burn, one and then another. Her head fell back again with a groan, her long hair brushing against the base of her spine. 

"See them, dearest," he whispered, pressing kisses to her neck between each breath, "They all want you - everyone wants you. Everyone wants a chance to play with my favorite toy." 

She opened her eyes, her back arched and could barely make out their forms, cross-eyed as she was with want, but it hardly mattered. All that mattered was that her husband kept going, kept talking, kept filling her up over and over again. 

"Should I let them, precious? Would you like that?" 

She whined her approval and suddenly felt Faustus lift her up, her legs immediately wrapping around him to keep them locked together. He lowered her to the floor, her back against the cool carpet as he knelt above her. In this new position, he could fuck her properly, letting his hips snap, thrusting hard but at an almost leisurely pace, enjoying his wife's mounting desperation.

"You remarked Bierce," Faustus said, voice strained with desire, "on how effective my Caligari proved?" 

Faustus looked up at the man in the corner, who's own hand was firming gripping his cock, his own eyes wide at the mention of his name. 

"I could hear that arrogant surprise in your voice, don't bother to deny it," Faustus spat out, before thrusting deep into his wife once more, her hands scrabbling feebly for whatever bit of carpet might allow her to tether herself briefly to reality. "Well," he breathed out, "allow me to reveal my secret at last." 

"A Caligari spell could never force what wasn't already wanted, isn't that right dear?" he said, his teeth gritted as his hips snapped forward again and again, faster now. "Prissy Miss Spellman was already gagging for the chance to be my sweet little doll, before she ever heard that music box." 

Everything felt hazy around her. Somewhere in her mind she could feel her back aching, every inch of her body sore, but now all of her awareness distilled down to the overwhelming, aching need that was blossoming slowly intent on swallowing her whole.

"I knew what you needed." Faustus's eyes flashed, "Show me, Zelda, show me." 

She couldn't hold herself together for even a moment longer. She shattered apart, her voice hoarse, her body almost spasming in pleasure. 

"That's it precious, show them how much you love it." 

She lost track of everything then, feeling only her husband's touch, as though it slowly diffused over every inch of her skin all at once. It felt like a lifetime before she had floated back to reality, but perhaps it was only minutes. She woke to find herself alone with her husband, her body sore and sticky, his hands softly stroking her skin. 

Faustus gathered her up, brushing a hand through her tangled curls before lifting her, a whispered spell making her light as a feather for him to carry. 

He couldn't seem to stop pressing soft kisses to her skin as he walked: to her neck, her forehead, her ears, her lips. She barely stirred as he did so, except to smile at him, so sleepy and satisfied. 

He drew her a warm bath, full of healing salts and herbs, the gently steaming water rousing her. "Did I do well, husband?" she murmured, her throat sore, as he settled in the water behind her.

"So well," he kissed her neck again, "just perfect." 

He gently brushed her softest sponge over every inch of her, seemingly unable to stop muttering affections into her skin as he did so, "So good Zelda, my favorite girl, so beautiful." 

He let a few cupfuls of water to sluice down her hair, before combing out the long red-gold curls gently, "So proud of you, precious. My perfect wife." 

The music box tinkled softly, its song echoing through from their bedroom, and never had Zelda Spellman felt so at peace in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are <3


End file.
